


a piece of the past

by trash_rendar



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: Knights of the Old Republic, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Canon Compliant, Gen, Post-TLJ, kids find the darndest things in shady cantinas on tatooine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-27
Updated: 2018-09-27
Packaged: 2019-07-18 10:54:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16116932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trash_rendar/pseuds/trash_rendar
Summary: "So the Jedi called this a... 'holocron'?"





	a piece of the past

The Jedi artifact-  _ alleged  _ Jedi artifact- sat innocently in the center of the table, only just visible in the dim cantina light. It was a rather ostentatious cube-shaped trinket about the size of her fist, unassuming except for the gold-bronze latticework which encaged its translucent core. Its casing was marked by weather and time, chipped and cracked in places that glittered when the light struck it- but this could have been an affectation, like the filigree that surrounded it.

 

Rey squinted through the dark at the bauble on the tabletop. It looked vaguely like a puzzle box that had been passed around on Jakku for some time before becoming lost to the wastes, only made of carved wood instead of crystal. It, too, hadn’t seemed worth its asking price- but maybe this one was. She really didn’t know- for most of her life, she’d been trying to  _ sell  _ junk, not buy it. Haggling was new to her.

 

“I’m sorry,” she told the smelly little rodent at the other end of the table. “But I really can’t do four hundred.”

 

It jabbered at her in its strange, sped-up language before bringing its glass to its invisible lips, round yellow eyes watching intently from under its hoot. It sounded a bit like the Teedo language to her ears, but she still couldn’t pick up a word of it; instead, she turned to the droid at her side, shrugging helplessly.

 

C-3PO’s glowing photoreceptors were much like the Jawa’s, but less unsettling. This was partly because the protocol droid was about as threatening as old Bobbajo, the Crittermonger on Jakku. “He says you are mistaken,” the droid said mildly. “His asking price is five hundred credits, no less.”

 

She considered the object again. In spite of its price tag, it was still unimpressive. “He wants half a thousand credits for  _ that _ ?”

 

“I’m afraid so, master Rey,” Threepio replied.

 

“That is  _ not  _ worth half a thousand,” she said skeptically.

 

“Most certainly not,” he sniffed. “Then again, Jawas never were known for being equitable in their transactions. Horrid little creatures.”

 

Rey raised an eyebrow, still examining the imperfections in the cube’s surface. “What even is it? Some kind of… Jedi paperweight?”

 

“I confess I’m not sure. Artoo would know more, I think- he was always a part of Master Luke’s expeditions for Jedi artifacts. I’m only an interpreter, and not at all knowledgeable about--” The Jawa exploded with impatient chatter, giving them both a start. “He says he’s increasing his price by another hundred credits for wasting his time,” Threepio reported with a huff. “The nerve!”

 

“What?!” Rey stood up from her seat, glaring daggers across the table. “If you think I’m going to pay that much for  _ this-- _ ” Here she picked up the cube with one hand, intending to make a dramatic gesture and gain the upper hand on the negotiations- but stopped short.

 

It was like when she touched the lightsaber for the first time in Maz’s basement- well, not exactly. It wasn’t as traumatic as that moment, surely. But touching the trinket she thought was so worthless before made her forget about the rank stench of the cantina and the mild irritation of the sand particles that had somehow materialized underfoot inside her shoes. Rey was totally absorbed in the moment of holding the cube- and in that moment was something else- around her, within her. Within the cube. A Force.

 

She knew at once that the thing she held in her hand was ancient, and precious. And infinitely more valuable than the junk-peddler knew.

 

“We’ll take it,” she said breathlessly.

 

Threepio turned in his seat to look at her. Clearly, he’d been expecting a bidding war to break out; now he noticed the change that had come over Rey. “Pardon me, mistress,” he whispered, standing. “Are you alright?”

 

“I-I’m fine. We’ll take it.” Belatedly, Rey realized it was she, and not her translator, who controlled their credits; she fished some ingots out of a pocket in her vest and threw them onto the tabletop, barely noticing as the Jawa scooped them up gleefully. “Let’s get this back to the ship.”

 

“Of course, mum. And may I say it will be a pleasure to finally leave Tatooine again. If I ever have to feel this infernal sand in my joints again, it’ll be too soon…!”

 

He tailed her all the way back to Anchorhead spaceport, fussing all the while. Rey, too absorbed in the piece of history she held in her hands, barely noticed.

 

* * *

 

“So the Jedi called this a… ‘holocron?’”

 

R2-D2 burbled something vaguely affirmative. In the beginning, his astromech binary sounded a little different from BB-8’s, from an older time, and it had taken a little while for Rey to adjust to its different dialect; eventually she figured out it wasn’t that different at all, Artoo’s vocabulary just tended to be as blue as the paint on his dome. He stood off to the side, beating her shoes against his barrel-shaped body, jarring the sand out of their soles as she tried to decipher the secrets of the Jedi bauble sitting on the floor of her quarters.

 

She bit her lip and cocked her head as she examined it from her position cross-legged before it. “It’s... like a databank, right? That’s what you said? So we could try to hook it into the computer.”

 

_ She wouldn’t like that, _ Artoo whistled dubiously. And it probably wouldn’t interface, anyway.

 

“Well, we can’t just break it open. Not that it doesn’t look like people have tried.” She looked own at the Ahch-To texts scattered open-faced around her, remembered she was no closer to understanding ancient Jedi script, and grimaced. “Did Master Skywalker ever find any? Do you remember how he got them open?”

The droid replied with some expositive tootling about ‘stretching out with your mind’ and ‘using the Force’ to unlock the holocron.

 

“That’s… vague.”

 

Artoo replied, rather convincingly, that he was only a droid, and did she really think he knew how the Force worked?

 

“Fair point.” Rey regarded the holocron again, reflecting on the sense of connection she’d felt when she touched it. She held onto that sensation as she took a deep breath and closed her eyes. “Well, here goes nothing.”

 

She was getting better at immersing herself in the Force- quieting her mind, reaching out and feeling the presence of everything around her. Life, especially, stood out to her like the brightest stars in the night sky- Chewbacca in the maintenance pits, the porg family nesting in the nooks and crannies of the ship, Finn and Poe and Rose swapping stories of the Resistance around the dejarik table. Even those who were no longer there could still be felt, faint but comforting, lingering like the ghosts she’d been told infested the hulks of the Starship Graveyard when she was little. All of them, points of light wrapped in the  _ Falcon _ ’s durasteel shell.

 

There was something similar inside the holocron. It felt different from everything else onboard- like a ghost, or a droid, and yet neither at the same time. With some surprise, Rey realized it was- not reaching out to her, exactly, but inviting her to come to it. She followed its call until she could barely hear the notes of some ancient song reach her ears.

 

“Hello.”

 

Her eyes snapped open. The holocron still sat on the floor before her, but it was different now, less cube than an ornate polyhedron- the separate pyramids that made its edges had all turned, and its crystalline surface had become illuminated with an ethereal blue glow. A hologram about the height of a hydrospanner balanced on one end stood on the holocron’s uppermost surface, looking up at her serenely. Its image was that of a young woman with almost regal composure, her hair kept in a short ponytail and what could only be a lightsaber clipped to the small of her back.

 

“My name is Bastila Shan,” the hologram told her. “In life, I was a master of the Jedi Order. This holocron contains the sum of my knowledge concerning the light and dark sides of the Force, as well as my experiences during the Jedi Civil War.”

 

An eerie sense of familiarity gnawed at Rey as she listened; this ancient hologram reminded her of herself, but she couldn’t put her finger on why. “The Jedi had a civil war?”

 

“Yes,” Bastila’s ghost told her. “Thousands of years ago, though I’m no longer sure how long exactly. After the Mandalorian Wars, the Sith lord Darth Revan began a war of conquest against the Galactic Republic, using an ancient war machine in the unknown regions called the Star Forge to build his Empire.” Her expression became grave. “Apparently this is no longer accessible knowledge. You are a part of the Jedi Order, yes?”

 

“Um, no. I’m actually trying to rebuild the Order after it was wiped out.” Rey paused. “...Twice.”

 

“...I see. The situation is grave indeed.” The holographic Jedi crossed her arms and bowed her head, giving the appearance of thinking. When she looked up, she was again smiling, again the picture of serenity. “What’s your name, young one?”

 

“Rey. From Jakku.”

 

“Then in the absence of a Jedi archivist, the wisdom contained in this vessel is at your disposal, Rey from Jakku. If you have any doubts or questions about the Force, I will strive to be of assistance.”

 

Artoo whistled quietly and dropped Rey’s shoes at her side, freshly cleaned of sand. She snorted blithely as she toed them back onto her feet. “You could start by telling me more about Revan’s Empire,” she replied. “Specifically, how you stopped it. I’m kind of in a similar situation myself with the First Order.”

 

“Midway into the Sith campaign, Revan was betrayed by their apprentice, Malak.” The hologram infused each word with the weight of remembrance, as if it had been there to see the events unfold only yesterday. “With few alternatives, the Jedi Council decided that Revan’s mind was to be wiped of their memories and his Sith Lord personality replaced; then, with myself as their handler, they would redeem themselves by leading the Republic to the Star Forge.”

 

Rey cast the holocron a skeptical glance. “...So you brainwashed him?”

 

“Well… I wouldn’t put it quite so crassly, but. Yes. In a manner of speaking.”

 

“And… how did that work out for you?”

 

“About as well as you’d expect,” Bastila replied, somewhat bashfully.

 

Rey imagined trying to perform the same procedure on Kylo Ren. Something told her it wouldn’t take. “Yeah, let’s stick to more practical solutions.” She thought of the sundered lightsaber still sitting out on her workbench, the last tangible piece of the Skywalker legacy- split in two, ironically, in a battle of wills over the shape of that legacy. “Do you know how to repair lightsabers?”

 

“Yes- and how to build them. And much more.” Bastila clasped her hands behind her back, shimmering coyly. “If you’re willing to listen, and learn.”

 

“Show me,” Rey said. “Show me everything.”

 

And she watched, beaming, as the holocron’s secrets unspooled before her eyes.


End file.
